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Previously...

Daddy came in and sat beside me.

‘Oh, Susan, I’m so sorry.’

‘Why are you sorry, Daddy, you didn’t know?’

‘I should be protecting you, not doing this to you. It was a setup. It looks like they were hiding Tom Johansson away so that they could surprise you with his sudden appearance.’

I was looking at the large screen over against the wall, the sound was quite low but I could see Tom Johansson looking disgustingly smug. He was gesticulating and saying something. I stood up and went nearer the screen, trying to hear what he was saying.

‘–so I think that she should not be playing with men, she isn’t built for it and would expect to have special consideration by refs––’

I was still absolutely infuriated and I wasn’t taking that sort of crap from him. Without saying a single word to Daddy who was on his ’phone to someone, I stormed out, along the corridor to the narrow entrance leading to the studio floor. Clipboard Girl was there, but I just stormed past her and on to the floor. Forgetting stage fright, the audience and the watching millions, I strode over to Mike and Tom; Mike, stopped in mid-sentence and looked up with surprise as I seated myself next to Tom and smiled.

‘Sorry about that, I had to go and use the little girl’s room. So, Tom, what was that you were saying about me?’

And now the story continues…

Both Tom and Mike were staring at me. I felt as if I was naked, sitting there in a thin dress, my assets–such as they were–in full view, with their eyes ogling me as if I was a piece of prime totty.

‘Tom, if you could tear your eyes away from my breasts, I asked you a question.’

‘What…erm, what was the question again?’

‘I just asked what you were saying about me.’

‘–Look, Susan––’

‘–Please, Mike, you have tried to put me in an embarrassing position by producing Tom like a rabbit out of a hat, please do me the courtesy at least of allowing him to answer my question. Well, Tom?’

I crossed my black nylon-clad legs, smoothed my skirt and flicked my hair back out of my eyes. It seemed to distract Tom somewhat, but he was a man’s man and he wasn’t going to be put off by this blatant display of feminine wiles, even though this girl hadn’t officially been a girl for very long. He smiled at me: it was one of those smiles that showed that he thought that he was in complete control of the situation; a sort of –you know, superior, “I know best”, sort of thing.

‘Well, Mark–sorry, Susan, I’ll have to get used to that, it isn’t your fault, you just haven’t got the equipment to handle a big strong game like men’s football. Oh, you will probably say that you are good enough and to be fair you have some talent–you even beat me once, but that was a fluke goal. You will obviously have an unfair advantage over real men as referees will want to stop the game, if you–say, break a nail.’

I could hear some laughter in the background from several of the men in the audience, but this was counteracted by a buzz of anger from many women and, I’m glad to say, quite a few blokes too.

‘Well that’s most interesting Tom–’

‘Please let me answer, Mike.’ I said to the interviewer, rather dismissively, I must admit.

‘Well, we are running short of time––’

‘–Oh, do shut up, Mike. Right, Tom, firstly, the goal may have looked like a fluke and if thinking that makes you feel better, fair enough. You don’t think that I should play in the Premier League because, you say, I’m not good enough. How do you know? I’ve only played against you once and I didn’t seem to do too badly. Other teams would probably say that I played okay too, if they were honest. As regards the referee comment, I think that you are insulting all referees if you believe that because I am a girl, they would give me any sort of advantage.’

‘You would say that–’

‘I do say that–’

‘Well, time is getting on and we have other guests––’

‘–I’m sure they can wait, Mike. Anyway, your chirpy assistant told me that we have twenty minutes and it’s not up yet. As I was saying, Tom, before I was rudely interrupted, you would say that, wouldn’t you? You’re what my mother would call a male chauvinist pig, but I would not use that sort of language, I just think that you are sadly misguided. I am playing in the Premier League because I’m good enough. Melchester have faith in me and have backed me up to the hilt. I have over a hundred thousand people who now belong to my fan club, that’s nice because they don’t think that I am handicapped in any way because I am a girl playing what you call a “man’s game”. Have you ever gone to watch women play?’

‘No, I haven’t the time. I am very––’

‘–busy? Well, you weren’t too busy to come on here and spout your, shall we say, interesting views. Mike, I can see you flapping your arms about as you want to wind up, so I’ll do for you. It’ll save you a job. Tom, thanks for showing the world what kind of man you are. I hope that the fee that they have paid you is worth it and, Mike, I would like to thank you too, for giving me the opportunity for me to state my case. I’m sure that your falling ratings will get a boost after this. Just one final thing, I would like to thank everyone who has supported me through the unpleasant times that I have had lately. It’s nice to know that there are people out there who don’t take advantage of a young girl and put her into a position where she is ridiculed and taken advantage of. Well, Mike, normally, I should sit here quietly while the camera goes on you and I, with my friend Tom here, sneak off. But, I notice that I have broken a nail and as I am a weak, fluffy headed female, I need to go now and get some emergency nail surgery before it’s too late, so bye-bye.’

I got up and walked off. I vaguely heard some cheers and clapping from the audience, but by now I was in a blue funk and wondered if I had done irreparable damage to my reputation, such as it was.

As I left the stage, clipboard girl looked as if she was going to cry and I almost felt the need to join her. Brushing past, I went into the green room and sat on a chair. I vaguely realised that there was a woman sitting in the corner whom I thought I recognised. Mind you, I was rather preoccupied, being somewhat tearful and I couldn’t hide it.

She stood up and approached me. I did recognise her; she was Michelle Howard, the film star. She was devastatingly beautiful, wearing a sky blue shimmering cocktail dress. Her long blond hair was layered to perfection and fell to her shoulders. Her makeup had been flawlessly applied, but I was sure that, even without makeup, she was a truly beautiful woman.

Looking up, I gave her a sort of watery smile. She sat beside me and took my hand.

‘I saw the interview, Susan, you were great.’

‘I don’t feel great now.’

‘That’s just reaction. We all get that, well I do anyway after going on stage.’

‘I’m not an actress though.’

‘True, but everyone has to act a bit in the limelight and I was so pleased that you managed to put both of them firmly in their place.’

‘So you don’t think that I have done any damage?’

‘No, you have shown up two men in public; all the women will love you for it and a lot of men like to see smart Alecs put down as long as it’s not themselves.’

‘I did wonder if they would pull the plug and go to adverts or something.’

She laughed.

‘You need to know a lot more about show business, I can see that. The viewing figures for the repeats alone will send the network into raptures. They live on the numbers. Numbers means increased advertising spend.’

‘So that creep, Mike, has won then?’

‘No–he doesn’t know it yet, but he’s being replaced. The show is good, but word on the grapevine is that he is getting too old, asking for too much money and is only resorting to tricks like the one he pulled on you today because he’s fighting for his career.’

‘Why are you appearing then,’ I asked.

‘Contractual obligations, I’m plugging my new film. I wouldn’t be here otherwise–’

There was a knock on the door and another girl with a clipboard came in.

‘Ms Howard, we are ready for you now.’

‘Coming.’

Michelle took a card out of her purse.

‘Give me a call, the evenings are best. Perhaps we could meet up and swap our stories.’

‘Thanks, Michelle, that would be great.’

‘Anytime you want advice about this sort of thing, give me a buzz.’

We both stood up and gave each other a hug. She looked me in the eyes. ‘I started in this business when I was seventeen. It’s tough if you don’t know the way things work. I know that you are a footballer, honey, but you are also a member of the ‘celeb scene’ now. You can use it or let it pull you down. If you have any worries, just let me know.’

‘Thanks, Michelle.’

‘No problem, see you soon.’

With that she smiled again and walked out. Almost immediately, Daddy and John Prentiss rushed in. Daddy gave me a big hug.

‘You don’t take prisoners, do you?’ John remarked with a big smile.

I just shrugged and felt myself go red.

‘Those two sods deserved all they got,’ Daddy said, rather heatedly.

‘Daddy, language!’

‘Sorry, honey.’

‘Well,’ said John, ‘what with this and the problems you had at the shopping centre, I think we need to find out who is targeting you.’

‘Do you think that they are connected?’ I asked.

‘Yes, I don’t believe in coincidences. We’d better go now as I have a load of ’phone calls to make and you ought to get home.’

When we got home finally, I made my way to the bedroom. The others wanted to speak to me about what had happened–they had all watched the live performance, if that is what you would call it, but I had a bit of a headache so I cried off and they let me go with promises of interrogation later on.

I slipped out of my dress and hung it on a hanger. It was such a pretty dress that I decided that I wouldn’t chance running the gauntlet of any more shops and would wear that one to my party, tomorrow night.

I lay down on my bed and cuddled my white rabbit. I really did have a headache now and shut my eyes for a few minutes.

Two hours later, I awoke with a start as my hair was being stroked. Looking up I smiled. ‘Hello, Mummy, I think I must have dropped off.’

‘Not surprising after all you’ve been through today, sweetheart. How’s your head?’

‘Better thanks.’

‘Feel like a bite to eat?’

‘Mmm,’

‘Okay, pop some clothes on and come downstairs. Mrs Moon is doing one of her famous Spanish Omelettes.’

‘Yummy!’

‘If you want to talk about things, you know I’m here for you.’

‘I know, Mummy. I will talk, but not today. I just want to have a normal time for a while.’

‘Mmm, being a star isn’t all that much fun sometimes.’

‘You said it!’

After a lovely cuddle, Mummy left me to get dressed.

I put on a white skirt and pink angora jumper and made my way downstairs. I blinked several times as I opened the door and was hit by a wall of noise. The twins were crying, Claire was shouting at her brother to pass the salt, Daddy was on the ’phone and Mummy was trying to make the twins eat their food. Monica was nowhere to be seen and that was probably a smart move–she quite often ate in her room, still being a bit weak and everything.

As I ate my omelette I was just happy that everyone left me alone. I didn’t want twenty questions, I just wanted–normality. At last, Poppy and Daisy were eating their food and not trying to cover each other with it, and Mummy was having mouthfuls of her own food while hostilities had ceased. Andrew was looking at me and grinning–making me smile back. Claire was reading the latest teen mag to hit the streets. Daddy was reading the evening paper and I wondered how he could possibly switch off like that with all the surrounding cacophony.

Mrs Moon was cooking spotted dick for pudding and the smell alone was enough to make my mouth water. I was glad it was she who did the cooking rather than Mummy. It was a standing joke that Mummy could burn water without even trying!

Later on Claire managed to cadge a lift off Daddy as she was going to the cinema with her boyfriend, John.

Mummy had to go to some sort of mothers meeting and Monica had gone to bed early. She was getting better but still tired easily. It was nice to see her smile a bit more and get some colour in her cheeks.

Mrs Mogg had gone home to her hubby and the twins were in bed. I had been co opted to be babysitter for the evening, but I didn’t mind as Poppy and Daisy never woke up after their final evening feed.

Danni and Charlotte were somewhere about, I think Danni mentioned something about stiffening up security but I didn’t take it in. It was nice that I had them nearby after all the shenanigans of the past few days.

That left me and Andrea. We finally managed to go to the room that we used for Andrea’s dress-ups. I took the baby alarm with me and just mentioned to Charlotte where we could be found, before going. I took babysitting duty very seriously and didn’t want any problems from spoiling the quality time I had with Andrea.

I sort of looked the other way while Andrea got changed. Soon she was gazing at herself in the mirror.

‘That looks nice, Andrea.’

‘Mmm, do you think so?’

‘Yes, the colour suits you. Do you want to put on some makeup?’

‘Yes, I've brought my bag.’

‘Well, cover your blouse with this towel, you don’t want makeup on your new blouse.’

Andrea quickly applied her makeup. She had been practicing and was getting better all the time. When she finished, she turned to me.

‘What do you think?’ she asked.

I looked at her pretty face with gorgeous wide eyes accentuated with mascara, fine eye liner and pink eye shadow. Her complexion was beautiful and smooth and the blusher on her cheeks was just the right amount. Her lips were full, pink and shiny–

‘Oh Andrea, you are so lovely, give us a kiss…’

Our lips met and I felt a slight spark. Our mouths opened and we explored each other with our tongues. I was getting aroused and I knew she was and it was all we could do to stop what we were doing and stand back slightly.

‘Oh, Susan,’ said Andrea breathlessly, ‘I don’t know if I want to wait too long before––’

‘–I know, but we did agree and I want you in me so much, but we must wait a bit, you understand?’

‘Yes, I’ll be brave.’

‘I’ll try too. Mummy told me the other day that people of our age find it hard not to go too far. She even said–and this is between you and me–that she first had sex when she was sixteen and that she regretted not waiting.’

‘I agree, I want it to be special and I don’t want to have to do it secretly as if it was something wrong.’

‘It’s not wrong at the right time but this isn’t it.’

‘I think I understand what you mean. Changing the subject, when are you going to tell your mum?’

‘About what?’

‘You know what, duh–your dressing stoopid!’

‘Who are you calling stoopid?’

‘You.’ To emphasise the fact and show my great sophistication, I poked out my tongue at her.

After things calmed down a bit, Andrea answered my question.

‘I’ll tell her tomorrow morning. I’ve wanted to for ages. She can only kill me once, I s’pose.’

‘Don’t go all gloomy about it. Once it’s out, you can relax and maybe we won’t have to hide all this away.’ I sighed, ‘I wish we could do it, I want you so much it hurts.’

‘Mmm…mind you, we can do more of this––’

As I lay in bed that night, I thought of all things that had happened today. It had been a strange day with ups and downs. Only time would tell if my performance on TV helped or hindered my cause. But I wasn’t going to worry too much about that as my party was tomorrow! We were going to have it at home, but as I wanted to ask some of the players and friends too, together with other people at the club, Daddy thought that we ought to hire a more central location. There was a nightclub in town that on its closed nights, took bookings for private parties and they provided everything–food, drink, catering staff and bouncers, so we were doing that. Everyone I had asked from the club including, unbelievably, Mr McPherson, would be coming.

Then I remembered something. I picked up my mobile, looked at a number and made a call.

‘Hi, Becky, it’s Susan Hurst.’

‘Hello, Susan, I saw your interview with those two slime-balls–good on you, girl.’

‘Yeah, I don’t know where all that came from, I’m bitchier than I thought.’

‘You can never be too bitchy with neanderthals like that!’

We both laughed.

Look, Becky, I’m having a birthday party tomorrow night at The Stars Nightclub, do you know it?’

‘Second home to me and the girls.’

‘That’s good as I would like to ask all the girls in the Melchester squad to come and as you are the captain, I thought I would ask you first.’

‘Mmm, will the blokes be there?’

‘You mean the men’s team? Yes, they will.’

‘Well as for me then that’s a yes, can those girls foolish enough to have partners, drag them along too?’

‘The more the merrier?’

‘Sounds good, I’ll make a few ’phone calls. I’d be very surprised if anyone turns it down, we all love a good partay!’

We giggled at that and then said goodbye. I smiled as I disconnected. I really wanted to get to know the women’s squad and this would be a good ice breaker. I also wanted to do some training with them–if they would let me. But that was for another day. I had one more ’phone call to make.

I picked up the card from my bedside table and called her.

‘Hi, Michelle, it’s Susan Hurst, can you talk?’

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To Be Continued...

My thanks go to the brilliant and lovely Gabi for editing, making suggestions that I hadn't even thought of and pulling the story into shape.